I see the familiar Heathrow Terminal 5 underground sign but in such a different mood this time. About 2 weeks ago I hopped up at 4.50am — I barely slept that night from the excitement. I ran towards the small figure of you with a large bouquet of flowers in my hand, and 2 weeks later I am painfully sobbing in the tube crowd.
Departures are always so painful.
I can still picture almost every day of these 2 weeks we have spent together for I spent every single waking moment with you. I even dragged you to classes at school. We walked the whole of London together, eating out at so many places that would way exceed my monthly budget. We took walks about Paris, circling around the Eiffel Tower to eavesdrop on people, ate churros at the Christmas Market near Arc de Triomphe where you bought a bird whistle… that dropped out of your pocket. We ran to catch a good spot for fireworks at Disneyland because both of us were dwarves in the crowd, we ate the famous spicy Korean instant noodles, fried papadums in the apartment and had our Haagen Dazs strawberry cheesecake ice-cream. We took a ridiculous selfie with our less-than-desirable sausage lips.
We went back to London holding hands walking all the way back from St Pancras. The next day I walked you to Camden Market, where I held you back again and again from silly impulse buys. I dropped you at Regents Park while I went for lessons, before we headed for bubble tea and spent nearly 2 hours people watching. I dragged you along to an Overseas Singaporean Unit event the next day too, and you would be amused at the fact that you came all the way to London to attend a Singaporean event. You met my friends when we celebrated Weixuan’s birthday. You would now know who I am referring to when I talk about them to you.
Lake District was magical. We unintentionally found ourselves scaling a mountain unprepared except for our trekking (combat) boots. We were continually impressed by the magnificent views which got better as we got higher, stopping at every 10m we scaled just to capture new photos from a higher elevation. We descended too late that day and found ourselves walking nearly 6km on a windy road back to Keswick, having to shine torchlights because there were no street lamps along the road at all. We did not get angry with each other but just walked on because there was no other choice — neither of us intended to put ourselves in that situation. We also walked 45 minutes up a hilly road just to take a look at a sheep farm encircled by stones… and sheep dung. We ate so much that weekend — steak, fish and chips, roast chicken, apple crumble and chocolate brownie fudge for dessert, …I can see them. I can see you taking photos of them.
We watched Phantom of the Opera back in London where I scored stall seats for £35. We went to Winter Wonderland and watched other couples waste money, looked at every single thing sold along the Christmassy streets and got a free Toblerone from guys who won 4kg of Toblerone in total. We went ice-skating at the Tower of London where I (nearly almost) finally learnt how to skate this time. We walked up Greenwich and bought tons of rubbish at the nautical-themed shops which you’d bring home.
I can still see it — when I saw you again for the first time. You held your luggage with your left hand, tapped into the underground with the Oyster card I handed to you before I left Singapore. I ran to you and hugged you briefly in the teeming crowd. It felt different after such a long time.
I can still feel it — when I put my head on your shoulder again after 7 weeks.
I can still see your stupid face when you make a joke… or when you try to hide your phone screen away from me catching a stupid Pidgey or Rattata for the umpteenth time.
I can still see you sticking out your hand to help or hold me — scaling the Catbells, when I fell down ice-skating, when we were walking around everywhere, even when we were watching the musical.
I can still see you frying the papadums and cooking eggs, helping me to wash the dishes and hanging up the clothes for me.
I can still see how your eyes sparkle when you see ice-cream, even though we just had dinner.
I can still hear how you whine in your flirty voice when I get upset over the shit Poke stops near my place, or when you broke my photo frame.
I can still smell your overpowering scent from your perfume.
Thinking about us, together, actually hurts so much when we are physically apart. I am looking through photos of us now and I am crying so much. I can only imagine how much I will collapse emotionally later when I return to my empty room that will now only hold remnants of you. Tonight I will be unable to wish you good night to sleep in person; tomorrow morning I will not wake up to your silly face. I will no longer be able to hold your hand to sleep.
It has been an amazing time with you. These 2 weeks seem so magical and perfect that it would pass off so well as a dream. A dream that probably would not have felt like one if we weren’t put in this sucky situation of a LDR. Thank you so much for all the sacrifices that you have made just to make this trip and your 2 weeks of leave possible.
I love you. I love you so much. Please let these 6 months fly like it did the past 2 weeks — I am feeling cold and dizzy and I can no longer think. Please let me resume back to normalcy soon.